Who, steadfastly, stood, o’er sea
Daring, the waves, devouring, tides
Still, lives his, lasting legacy
In me, his son, his faith, resides!
“Why, we chose to be, mere fishmongers
Unlike, many millionaires, on the isle”
My father, said, “There are, some answers
Beyond, any, rationale, fertile”!
A lone soul, chases, tunas, sea-breams, …
And, the whispers, of, mermaids’ mystiques
Redeeming, his, fond father’s, dreams
A son, is spent, by bequest, he seeks!
“How, to avarice, was lost, our, faith’s fief
And, a humble heritage, an age, ago!”
Despairs, a diminishing world, beyond, his belief
The Last, Fisherman, Of Monaco!
© 2022 Vikas Chandra